


Seeing Ghosts

by blacktofade



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: Blow Jobs, First Time, Hand Jobs, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Workplace Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-02
Updated: 2019-11-02
Packaged: 2021-01-20 16:47:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21284930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blacktofade/pseuds/blacktofade
Summary: Ryan blames the entire thing on temporary insanity.
Relationships: Ryan Bergara/Shane Madej
Comments: 43
Kudos: 604





	Seeing Ghosts

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by all the sound booth shots this season, though, specifically, the one from the _Haunted Shadows Of The St. Augustine Lighthouse_ episode because [sweat emoji].

Ryan blames the entire thing on temporary insanity, which seems to be an ever growing theme with each new Supernatural season. To be fair, they’ve spent an unholy amount of time in the sound booth, shoulder to shoulder, running through audio files. And as always, Shane keeps ripping apart his evidence until Ryan has barely anything to cling to. He loves their banter, both for the show and for himself, but they’re confined to a small space that’s only made bigger this time because they leave the camera just outside the open door, and it’s all driving him crazy.

Even worse is that Ryan’s been listening and relistening to spooky noises the entire time. To say he’s on edge is an understatement. The wind could blow in the wrong direction and Ryan would probably startle at this point.

Which means when Shane sets one of his stupidly huge hands on his shoulder when Ryan has his back turned to him, he about hits the roof.

“_Shane_,” he complains, voice pitched high as he automatically moves to shrug him off.

“Calm down,” Shane laughs, squeezing, once and then twice. “You need to learn how to relax.”

“I can relax just fine. Just not with you around.”

Shane laughs again. “Why’s that, Ryan? Do I make you nervous?”

He wiggles his fingers at Ryan and Ryan bats them away.

“You make me _crazy_,” Ryan corrects, and it’s true — probably in more ways than Shane actually knows. It’s an ongoing crisis for Ryan, especially as he comes to terms with the length of Shane’s rapidly growing hair and how it makes him feel.

“I like the sound of that,” Shane tells him with a snort, sliding a pen behind his ear and it looks so stupid tucked against the edge of his cap, sticking out between tufts of hair. But even stupider is how much Ryan feels endeared by it. “What else you got?”

“What?” Ryan asks, shaking his head slightly to clear it.

“You got more evidence for me? Anything good this time?”

“Why are you like this?” Ryan argues and Shane turns wide eyes on him, an attempt to appear innocent.

“Like what? Scientific, you mean?”

“Bullshit! I’m giving you hard evidence and you’re shrugging it off. That’s the opposite of scientific.”

“Being scientific is about arguing, Ry. Doesn’t this make you feel like a regular Einstein?”

“You’re so full of shit,” Ryan says with a laugh, slowly shaking his head. He brings his hand up near his temple. “Up to here — so full of shit.”

Shane laughs, not one of his phony for-the-camera laughs, but the kind that makes his whole face crinkle as he stares down at Ryan, clearly pleased with himself. Ryan hates it, but only because of how much he actually loves it instead. He likes coming into work every day and sitting beside Shane from nine to five; likes traveling the country with him exploring haunted places; likes curling up in sleeping bags, despite his fear, feeling just a little safer by having Shane at his side.

He thinks having Shane right in front of him is what even gives him the courage, or maybe the temporary insanity — the lines always seem to blur when Shane’s around. But either way, Ryan finds himself reaching out to hook a hand behind Shane’s neck, and the thing about Shane is that he’s big enough to only go where he wants, when he wants. But Shane doesn’t resist Ryan’s pull, just leans down and down and down until Ryan can get his other hand on Shane’s jaw and guide their mouths together.

It’s stupid; so so stupid. Possibly the stupidest thing Ryan’s ever done in the twenty-nine years he’s been alive. It doesn’t even hold a candle to the time in high school when he went around egging houses in the neighborhood with a couple of similarly idiotic friends. It’s nowhere close to the time in college when he hooked up with a friend of his and her boyfriend, just because they’d wanted to try a threesome. It’s like he’s trying to one-up himself with stupidity.

But his stupid idea works and it really doesn’t feel that stupid when Shane kisses him, when he gets a hand on Ryan’s chest, flat in the center, and pushes him backwards enough to hit the wall behind. The soundproofing foam all around them means it’s actually soft against his back, but he’s pinned and Shane’s kissing him and they’re at work and the camera is still rolling.

“Oh god,” he pants, turning his face enough to get Shane to kiss the corner of his mouth instead. Shane gets a hand on his chin and pulls him back in. “_Shane_,” he complains, muffled between their lips. “The camera.”

He doesn’t know how Shane even understands him when it’s just a mess of consonants, but then Shane shifts and kicks out with one leg, slamming the door shut and blocking them from view. The room feels even smaller then, and so much more secretive. It’s just them in a soundbooth with no one around to bother them for hours.

Ryan makes a small noise against Shane’s mouth and Shane rubs his thumb below Ryan’s bottom lip, silently encouraging him to open for him. Ryan doesn’t even think, just does it — parting his lips for Shane to slip his tongue inside. It feels so surreal, gently finding Shane’s tongue with his own, because he’s wanted it for so long and he can’t believe he gets it now.

He hums quietly at Shane’s forwardness when he slides a hand down to Ryan’s waist, heading unsubtly towards his ass.

“Handsy,” Ryan mumbles, pulling back just enough to change the angle of their mouths.

Shane squeezes his ass before tugging at Ryan’s back pocket and Ryan realizes what he’s actually doing.

“_Shit_,” Ryan hisses, breaking the kiss and Shane mouths at his jaw.

“It’s okay,” he murmurs. “I’ll do you if you do me.”

Ryan isn’t entirely sure what Shane means until he tugs the mic receiver from Ryan’s pocket enough to turn it off and then pats it back into place.

“See, nothing to worry about.”

“_Fuck_,” Ryan groans, shifting to rest his forehead against Shane’s shoulder.

“This is about reciprocity,” Shane jokes and Ryan takes a moment to breathe before finally dropping his hands down to and around Shane’s waist. He knows the receivers well enough to work them with both eyes closed, which means it’s easy to turn Shane’s off without looking, and then he returns to leaning against him.

“What are we doing?” Ryan murmurs and Shane makes a mildly thoughtful noise.

“I don’t know; you started it.”

Ryan blows out a heavy breath and knows he can’t argue, because it’s true. He wonders if maybe he should start thinking up excuses, or mentally drafting the email he’ll have to send HR for harassing a coworker, but Shane drags him up and in and kisses him again and his mind goes blissfully blank.

He doesn’t realize how tense his body is until the moment Shane runs his hand down the length of his back and he finds himself relaxing into the touch. It doesn’t just feel like something he wants, it feels like something he _needs_. He pushes a moan into Shane’s mouth and slides his hands from Shane’s waist, up towards his ribs.

He’s thought a lot about kissing Shane, embarrassingly, mostly while sitting directly beside him or when talking to him. But it’s nothing like what he imagined it would be like. Maybe he’s a hopeless romantic because he thought Shane’s kisses would be soft and slow and devastatingly attentive; that they would take Ryan apart with each shift of Shane’s mouth. Instead, Shane is slightly boisterous, taking what he wants, how he wants it, which shouldn’t really be surprising. They still take him apart, it’s just not the way he expects.

Shane takes a half-step forward, closing the rest of the distance between them, and Ryan should feel embarrassed that Shane can probably feel _exactly_ what his kisses are doing to him already, but the second Shane grinds against him, he forgets to care.

“Are you always this easy?” Shane asks between kisses, letting them catch their breaths. “I haven’t even touched your nipples yet.”

“_Shane_,” Ryan complains and Shane laughs warmly against his mouth, pushing back in for another kiss.

“Is that a yes?”

“I’m gonna — ” Ryan threatens, but he can’t think enough to actually decide what he can do in retaliation. It doesn’t matter because he knows Shane wouldn’t believe him anyway. Instead, he slips his fingertips down under the waistband of Shane’s pants and Shane lets out a surprised noise.

“How far are we going with this?” His gaze darts towards the door and he seems to notice the lock at the same time as Ryan. “Huh.”

Shane lets go of him just long enough to reach out and twist the lock into place. There’s a beat of silence, which Ryan knows is part of Shane’s ridiculous sense of comedic timing, before Shane pulls him back in, even rougher and more insistent than before. He thinks that’s Shane answering his own question.

The worst part is that Ryan kind of loves it and has no intention of stopping until either they’re caught or Shane pulls away. He loves the way Shane grips his hips; the way he licks into his mouth; how he makes Ryan feel like he’s the only thing in his world worth paying attention to.

Ryan kisses him back, desperate for more as he knocks the stupid hat off Shane’s head, just so he can tangle his fingers into his hair. It’s been driving him crazy watching Shane grow it out. People have been joking with Shane about it for months — asking if he needs the number of their stylist, if he’s been too scared to visit his regular one after his bowl cut. And every week, Shane comes in and it’s a little bit longer, a little bit more wild, and Ryan finds it harder not to touch.

Except, now he _can_; he’s allowed to slide his hand around to the back of Shane’s head and really grab a fistful. Shane makes a weak noise and pushes forward restlessly, letting Ryan feel that he’s well on the way to getting hard, something Ryan never thought he’d get to feel against his hip. But Shane keeps grinding against him like that’s all he needs to get himself there, and Ryan’s happy to be along for the ride.

Shane’s hands find the button of Ryan’s pants, thumbing at it like he’s looking for permission. Ryan pushes his consent into Shane’s mouth in the form of a moan, muffled by Shane’s tongue. Shane doesn’t hesitate as he unbuttons and unzips Ryan’s pants, finally giving Ryan the breathing room his cock needs. If he'd thought he'd have to deal with a boner at work, he would have worn looser pants.

Instead of slipping his hand down the front, like Ryan expects, Shane breaks the kiss and shoves at Ryan’s pants and boxer-briefs until they’re down around mid-thigh, his cock bouncing free. Ryan’s never felt more exposed in his life. Not even when he’s been up on stage answering personal Q and As for strangers. Shane’s gaze is heavy on him, unwavering, and Ryan swallows thickly.

“Look at you,” Shane murmurs, enraptured, his thumb pressing just under the head of Ryan’s cock, making it leak from the attention. “Is that all for me?”

Ryan blows out a heavy breath. “Who the fuck else would it be for, Shane?”

“You could be thinking of someone else.”

“Trust me,” Ryan says blandly, “there is _nothing_ going on in my head right now.”

Shane looks up at him, catching his gaze, and offers a small, seemingly self-satisfied smile. “Good.”

When he wraps his hand fully around Ryan’s cock and begins jerking him off, dry and tight, Ryan thinks his knees might buckle.

“_Shane_,” he moans, but he’s careful to keep his voice low. As much as they’re surrounded by soundproofing, he’s not about to take that risk if anyone happens to be passing by outside. “Fuck, Shane.”

Shane hums quietly and takes his hand off him just long enough to spit into his palm. The smooth slide of it afterward is exactly what Ryan needs. He bucks into Shane’s grip and then reaches out to get a hand on Shane’s shoulder, pulling him closer. Shane grins down at him just before kissing him, his hand speeding up until Ryan knows he’s going to go crazy from it.

Shane kisses him gently, a direct contrast to the tightness of his grip, and Ryan finds himself losing track of time, melting against Shane because he has everything he needs now.

“Is this what you thought about?” Shane asks, pulling back after a moment and thumbing at the tip of Ryan’s cock. “How long have you wanted it?”

“_God_,” Ryan curses, and Shane’s other hand drops down, fingers gently squeezing Ryan’s balls.

“You’re nice and full,” he says. “Have you been saving up for this?”

“_Fuck, Shane_,” Ryan hisses incredulously and Shane quirks an eyebrow at him and laughs.

“Too much?”

“Have you always been like this?”

“Mm,” Shane murmurs thoughtfully. “You might have to ask around.”

“Fuck.”

Shane smiles again, borderline predatory now, and Ryan knows he can feel his cock twitching in his grip. Something about the whole thing just _does things_ to Ryan.

“Want me to play with your nipples or is this enough?”

“_Shane_,” Ryan hisses, face on fire, but Shane reaches up with his free hand and tweaks one through his shirt, probably just to see what will happen. Ryan jerks in his hold, his whole body shuddering until Shane stops.

“Jesus, Ryan,” he says, sounding slightly awed. “You weren’t kidding.”

Ryan glances down his body at where the head of his cock keeps disappearing into the tight circle of Shane’s fist, and he knows without a doubt that the wetness on his fingers isn’t just spit. Ryan’s leaking like he’s losing control already — which he is, but it’s worse that Shane knows.

He lets his head drop back against the wall, chest heaving with each breath, and he realizes in that moment that he’s going to come at work, tucked away in a soundbooth with Shane. It’s no longer a question of _if_ it’ll happen, because it’s going to. It’s about to happen, Ryan can feel it curling through him, and there’s nothing he can do to stop it.

“Fuck, Shane,” he warns. “Shane, I’m gonna come.”

“Jesus,” Shane murmurs, his strokes still firm and smooth, like it's no effort at all for him to take Ryan apart. “I want to see that. Let me see you come, Ryan.”

“Shane, you fucking — ” Ryan tries, wanting to call Shane out, but he can barely think, let alone speak. Instead, he gets his hands into Shane’s hair and _pulls_, yanking hard enough to drag a surprised noise from Shane before Ryan screws his eyes shut and tips his head back. “Fuck, _Fuck_.”

Ryan tightens his hold even more and slowly lets the feeling wash over him as he comes into Shane’s palm. He knows it’s messy and Shane’s probably going to end up with come up the front of his shirt and maybe down his pants, but Ryan honestly doesn’t care in that moment. He comes so hard, harder than he has in a long time. He thinks he actually whites out for a second, his whole body locking up in one long tense line.

“_Shane_,” he pants as he draws in endless ragged breaths, and Shane kisses him, mouth harsh and frantic against his own, like he can’t help himself. Ryan wonders idly if Shane really is always this way with the people he hooks up with, or if this is just a special occasion.

Shane nips at his bottom lip and Ryan pushes him away gently, needing to blow out a breath and let his brain come back online.

“Did that really just happen?” Ryan asks, voice sounding rougher than normal and Shane kisses his jaw.

“Is this when we're meant to say ‘no homo’?”

A laugh bursts out of Ryan before he can stop it and Shane pulls back, grinning.

“No homo,” he jokes against Shane’s mouth and Shane smiles into the kiss before returning it. “What do you want?” Ryan asks after a moment, pulling back to press his hand to the side of Shane’s face, thumb tracing slowly across his cheekbone.

“I’ll take whatever you’ll give me,” Shane says and Ryan immediately laughs.

“Bold statement.”

Shane lets out a low rumble of laughter and shrugs one shoulder. “Probably should have worded that better, but the offer still stands.”

Ryan hums quietly — mostly because he can’t get his brain to function completely — and gives Shane one last kiss. “I have an idea.”

He drops to his knees with probably more force than he should because the ground below is unforgiving and something in his old-man body pops. It feels ridiculous to still have his dick out, but for some reason, it feels even more ridiculous to think about stopping to tuck it away. Instead, he focuses on unbuckling Shane’s belt. Just the sound of it makes his mouth flood with saliva like he’s somehow managed to give himself an instant Pavlovian response, but when he looks up at Shane, Shane’s slack-jawed expression makes it worth it.

“You don’t waste any time,” Shane murmurs and Ryan offers him a smirk that surprisingly shuts him up immediately. “Jesus,” Shane exhales. “You look good down there.”

He reaches down, gently brushing the side of Ryan’s face with his fingers before dragging them down to his mouth. He thumbs at Ryan’s bottom lip and Ryan flicks his tongue out at it.

“I might come the second you do anything,” Shane warns. “You menace.”

Ryan grins and sucks Shane’s thumb completely into his mouth, giving it a quick suck before pulling back. Shane blows out an unsteady breath and leans his other hand against the wall behind Ryan, bracing himself.

Ryan takes it as a sign that Shane’s ready, and he works at unbuttoning and unzipping Shane’s jeans. They’re tight enough to bunch up around Shane’s thighs and stay there while Ryan tugs Shane’s boxers down to free his cock. There’s a wet patch where he’s already been leaking for a while and Ryan thumbs at it to make a point.

It’s clear Shane’s waiting for some kind of comment, but Ryan isn’t about to give him the satisfaction. Instead, he licks over it and Shane lets out a punched-out sound that cuts off the second Ryan shifts to get his mouth around Shane’s cock. It’s an unexpected, slightly dirty, tactic that Ryan’s not ashamed of using.

Shane clamps his hand around the back of Ryan’s head, threading his fingers into his hair and gripping like he might die if he lets go.

“_Fuck_!” he curses, so loud that Ryan actually pauses, feeling even more like they might be caught. But the truth is that yelling is pretty standard for the sound booth, and even if anyone recognizes Shane’s voice, they’ll just think he’s arguing with Ryan. That’s their dynamic.

And only Ryan knows that Shane’s actually losing his mind because Ryan’s blowing him halfway through a recording session.

He looks up at Shane and holds his gaze while letting Shane’s cock nudge the back of his throat. It makes him gag, but if Shane’s reaction is anything to go by, it’s something he’s into. He tugs at Ryan’s hair and lets out a low moan that sounds slightly pained. Ryan has to blink to clear the watering of his eyes and Shane stares down at him like his whole world is in the process of changing.

“You don’t do anything by halves, do you?” Shane pants and Ryan chokes himself again, just to make a point.

It’s messy and the cleanup will be worse after, but Ryan can’t bring himself to care. He wants to make it good for Shane; good enough that maybe he’ll come back for more — whatever _more_ might entail. He laps at Shane with his tongue, deploying every tactic he knows, just to ruin him where he’s standing.

“Jesus, Ryan.” Ryan bobs his head and Shane shuts his eyes like he can’t think enough to form words, which means Ryan’s plan is probably working. He’s taking Shane apart bit by bit.

He pulls off, just to flick his tongue over the tip of Shane’s cock, tasting where he’s leaking steadily, and it jerks in his grip.

“I thought about this,” Shane admits, his voice shaky as he looks at the ceiling, like he can’t stand to look at Ryan, like it’s too much. “I never — _god_, _Ryan_, your mouth. I never thought it would be this good.”

“That feels backhanded,” Ryan tells him, waiting for Shane to look back down before getting his mouth on him again.

Shane makes another unsteady noise. “The version of you in my fantasies is nowhere close to the real you.”

Ryan wants to pull away just to grill Shane about how often the fantasy version of Ryan pops into his mind. But he thinks that’s a discussion for another time. Now, Shane’s slowly thrusting — possibly subconsciously — into his mouth and his breathing is growing heavier.

“Fuck. Ryan, you’re going to make me come.”

Ryan likes the sound of that. He knows his face is already flushed, but it feels even worse then, burning at the praise. _He’s_ the one that’s going to make Shane come. Shane’s losing it just from a sloppy blowjob at work. Ryan can’t wait for the opportunity to take him home and show him what he can really do.

He moans around Shane’s cock and takes him deeper, trying to make it an invitation. If Shane wants to come in his mouth, he’s welcome to.

“You’re going to ruin me,” Shane says, carding his fingers through Ryan’s hair, though for as calm as he seems, Ryan can feel the shaking of his hands.

_Good_, Ryan thinks, but can’t say. From now on, he wants Shane to look at his mouth and only ever be able to think about it doing this to him. He sucks a little firmer and Shane bends at the waist, letting out a gasping breath.

“Just like that, Ryan,” Shane begs, and Ryan gives him exactly what he wants. He doesn’t change a thing, just grips at Shane’s hips and lets him fuck his mouth at his own pace. “If you don’t want come in your mouth, you need to move now.”

Ryan wants it; he wants Shane to remember what it’s like to come in his mouth. He stays right where he is and looks up at Shane to watch him fall apart. Shane stares back the whole time, his mouth softening as he moans quietly, beginning to come.

The first spurts at the back of his throat threaten to choke Ryan, but he just pulls back a little, swallowing before opening his mouth and letting Shane see his come landing on Ryan’s tongue. Shane lets out a louder noise then, like it’s all too much to process, and shifts his hips back, letting the last little bit of come drip down Ryan’s chin.

“_Fuck_,” Shane pants and Ryan gives his cock one last suck, mostly to clean him off, but partly because he wants to feel it twitch in his mouth, too overstimulated for anything more. “_Ryan_.”

Ryan pulls back with a crude slurp and sits on his heels, waiting as Shane seems to try to figure out which way is up again. Shane hangs his head, eyes closing for a moment, before he pushes his fingers through Ryan’s hair one last time and reaches out with his thumb to swipe away the mess on Ryan’s chin.

“Missed a bit,” Shane tells him, though they both know it’s his fault. When Shane brings his thumb up to his own mouth to clean off, Ryan’s cock gives a twitch of interest. Shane quirks an eyebrow at him and then smiles. “Get back up here.”

Ryan uses the grip he has on Shane’s hips to help pull himself up and Shane gets a hand on the small of his back, drawing him in for a kiss. Shane is anything but tentative as he licks into Ryan’s mouth, tasting the remnants of himself.

“I think we’ve learned a lot about each other,” Ryan says when they eventually break apart, and his voice sounds lower, scratchier than before.

“Yeah,” Shane laughs. “No kidding.”

He takes a step back, tucking himself back into his underwear and pulling up his pants. Ryan takes his lead, buttoning and zipping his jeans, pointedly not looking over at the _clink_ of Shane doing up his belt, because — ridiculously — it suddenly seems so much more personal.

Ryan rakes his fingers through his hair and has the sudden realization that he still has to get through the rest of the workday looking exactly as he does now.

“Fuck,” he mutters under his breath and Shane laughs, drawing his attention.

“Don’t worry,” Shane tells him, folding the end of his belt into a belt loop on his hip. “No one will notice. It already looked like you had sex hair when we walked in here.”

Ryan laughs and gives it one last pat, because for once, Shane might actually be right.

“I don’t know about your mouth, though,” Shane continues, reaching a hand out to thumb at Ryan’s bottom lip. “That definitely looks more fucked than before.”

“_Jesus_, Shane,” Ryan complains with another laugh and Shane grins. “Is it that bad?”

“Guess we’ll find out if rumors start to spread.”

"Fuck," Ryan laughs and enjoys the way Shane watches him. Eventually, Shane’s gaze shifts over his shoulder.

“That might be a little harder to explain,” he says, tipping his head towards the wall behind Ryan.

Ryan turns to look, horror flooding through his body when he realizes what he’s seeing. “Oh _god_.”

There’s a smear of Ryan’s come across the soundproofing foam from where Shane had been resting his hand.

“My bad,” Shane says, sounding as unconcerned as ever, though he laughs as Ryan brings his hands up to frame his own face.

“Oh my god, I’m going to lose my job.”

Shane laughs harder at that, spinning Ryan around gently to face him again. “We’ll figure something out,” he says, resting his hands on top of Ryan’s own. “It’ll be okay.”

Ryan takes a steadying breath and nods. Shane watches him for a moment and Ryan knows he’s not going to like whatever joke is about to come out of his mouth.

“Do you think if we filmed it from a distance we could sell it as a ghost?”

Ryan shoves at him in frustration and Shane laughs and laughs like he might never stop. It’s the worst, and yet somehow, the best.

**Author's Note:**

> If you want to share feelings, you can also find me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/blacktofade) and [Tumblr](http://blacktofade.tumblr.com/).


End file.
